The Adventures of a Bibliophile with “Permitted Worker” status in what was once “Marvelous Melbourne”…
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1Bushwhacked
As a boy I was a devourer of Second World War escape stories (think The Wooden Horse, The Great Escape, The Colditz Story). Daily journeys to work at the moment feel like I've tunnelled out of Stalag Luft III and I'm on the run heading for Switzerland, hoping my civilian suit made from dyed battledress passes muster, my forged foreign workers permit holds up to inspection, and ever fearful of leather trenchcoated gestapo demanding "papers please mein herr!"
Putting aside the daydream, reality is more boring but with an element of danger and dystopia. There are few people about in the CBD and they generally avoid you - the streets are owned by unmasked raving, ranting drug effected individuals and the unmedicated homeless mentally ill, all of whom the patrolling police studiously ignore. Baling out of the 96 Tram at the corner of Russell and Bourke, I surreptitiously scurry through the deserted back alleys of China Town like a rat through a maze until I reach the safety of my office on Lonsdale Street, spending the day trying to forestall yet more human misery. As Ava Gardner whilst filming "On the Beach" reputedly once said of Melbourne: "the perfect place to make a film about the end of the world."
One of the most depressing parts of this lockdown for this particular human is not being allowed to browse in a bookshop. Lunchtimes at work often find your correspondent walking across to Bourke Street to gaze forlornly upon the window displays of The Hill of Content and The Paperback Bookshop, with the occasional Collins Street foray to the windows of Kay Craddock’s Rare Books.
It’ll all be over soon, perhaps…
Putting aside the daydream, reality is more boring but with an element of danger and dystopia. There are few people about in the CBD and they generally avoid you - the streets are owned by unmasked raving, ranting drug effected individuals and the unmedicated homeless mentally ill, all of whom the patrolling police studiously ignore. Baling out of the 96 Tram at the corner of Russell and Bourke, I surreptitiously scurry through the deserted back alleys of China Town like a rat through a maze until I reach the safety of my office on Lonsdale Street, spending the day trying to forestall yet more human misery. As Ava Gardner whilst filming "On the Beach" reputedly once said of Melbourne: "the perfect place to make a film about the end of the world."
One of the most depressing parts of this lockdown for this particular human is not being allowed to browse in a bookshop. Lunchtimes at work often find your correspondent walking across to Bourke Street to gaze forlornly upon the window displays of The Hill of Content and The Paperback Bookshop, with the occasional Collins Street foray to the windows of Kay Craddock’s Rare Books.
It’ll all be over soon, perhaps…
2pamelad
Sorry you're feeling so miserable about the lockdown.
In the light of the second waves of infection occurring around the world, I'm relieved to live in a place where every effort is being made to reduce the spread of this virus. The Melbourne I live in is far from dystopian.
In the light of the second waves of infection occurring around the world, I'm relieved to live in a place where every effort is being made to reduce the spread of this virus. The Melbourne I live in is far from dystopian.
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